


The tale through Aerith's eyes

by Moragh33 (Moraghh33)



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:22:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moraghh33/pseuds/Moragh33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The plan for this was a bunch of snapshots across the story... It may have gotten a little out of hand, but the idea more or less holds if you stretch the definition of 'snapshot'...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: when I started writing this is was supposed to be all happy and shiny and glossing over any possible sadness in this story... That plan got a little lost along the way. I still think it's kind of happyish by the end but feel free to disagree! I hope you enjoy it either way :)

Aerith didn’t think she’d ever given a good pair of shoulders enough appreciation before. It just hadn’t crossed her mind. In Midgar most people tended to cover up, warm clothing being more affordable that central heating, but still; she felt she’d done shoulders a bit of a disservice by so disregarding them.

_I think I could stare at those all day and not get bored,_ she thought, smirking to herself with the realisation that it was a good job too as she wasn’t likely to come across many other sources of entertainment as they made their way across the grasslands towards the Mythril Mines. Tifa’s arms were swinging loosely by her sides as she walked with Cloud and Barret a few paces ahead, but Aerith could see the muscles and the bones and the tendons of her shoulders beautifully outlined under her skin and ready to snap into action at the sight of danger.

Aerith had never really studied anyone’s shoulders before but she semi-convinced herself that Tifa’s shoulders must just be more interesting than other people’s. She glanced across at Cloud’s to check and quickly found herself shrugging her own shoulders in disinterest.

It was interesting though: the fact that Tifa’s shoulders and the way she held herself showed that obvious strength, the kind of ‘don’t-mess-with-this-unless-you-want-to-lose-limb-functionality’, but there was still an alluring sense of delicacy and typified femininity. It was a little like the delicately eye-catching thin black line of her braces against the rough, grass-stained cotton of her white vest.

Aerith’s desire to run her hands over Tifa’s shoulders was astonishingly high.

Ordinarily speaking, this wouldn’t necessarily be an issue; shoulders are generally considered fairly innocuous, fairly accessible within the confines of a friendly hug. The problem was twofold, however: first was the fairly major issue in that Tifa seemed to shy away from physical contact with other people as much as was practicable, and certainly never seemed comfortable with the concept of gratuitous hugs. Second of course was Aerith’s own issue in that the more she stared at Tifa’s shoulders, the more unconvinced she was by her own mind’s attempted reasoning that of course she wouldn’t have a problem in restricting her hands to only ‘friendly’ inspection of the fighter’s shoulders.

“You’ve been a bit quiet since Kalm.”

Aerith almost audibly squeaked, so surprised was she to be broken from her reverential contemplation by the rumbling growl of Red’s voice beside her.

“I know Cloud’s story was uncomfortable and must have provoked a lot of questions for you?”

“Oh,” she smiled brightly at him, waving away his needless gentle probing, sweet as it was, “no, no, I’m fine, really. Honestly, I haven’t really thought about it all that much; it’s hard to think about Sephiroth and death and horrid things I associate with Midgar when there’s so much green space and nature around us, so much beauty.” She worked hard to keep her face straight and blush-free and to not zero her gaze right back to Tifa as she said that last bit.

“Fair enough,” he replied, his head cocking slightly. “I suppose, as Cetra, you are perhaps even more susceptible to nature’s beauty than the rest of us.”

“I guess,” Aerith said a little uncertainly, given that she hadn’t in actuality given _nature’s_ beauty more than the odd glance here and there, her gaze being captured by something slightly more specific.


	2. Chapter 2

_Goodness me... The arms attached to those shoulders are definitely also worthy of study._

Aerith swallowed hard as she watched Tifa pulling herself up into the boughs of a tree, trying to get some altitude in an attempt to see where that sneaking ninja thief had gone with their materia. The fighter was so agile, made it look so easy; biceps and triceps bulging elegantly.

_I’m fairly certain it shouldn’t be possible to bulge elegantly; that must be wrong, surely._

And yet Aerith was transfixed.

“I don’t think that branch will take my weight,” the fighter called down, frustration wrinkling her brow. “Aerith, can you come up here; I reckon it’ll hold you.”

“Uh-”

Aerith’s eyes widened part in shock from having been broken from her reverie by the object of it and part in fear of the fact that she was about to humiliate herself extensively. Upper body strength was not really in her arsenal.

“Better you than me, flower girl,” Barret grinned a little wolfishly, catching her eye as she instinctually glanced around looking for a substitute.

“Uh, ok; I’ll try.”

She reached for the lowest sturdy-looking branch but soon realised it was too high for someone of her arm and shoulder strength and general lack of tree-climbing-ability.

“Uh-” Aerith tried not to only think about the fact that her face was absolutely and without a doubt very, very red.

“I’ll, uh, come down and help you up,” Tifa called down, seeing the problem. “Cloud, give her a boost up onto the first one, will you?”

The blond man grunted, striding forwards and instructing Aerith to stand on his hands as he crouched beside her. She did her level best to not squeak in fright as he stood, rocketing her up towards the branch. She grabbed onto it for balance and proceeded to haul herself up in the most awkward manner possible, Cloud pushing from underneath. Her face only got redder as she contemplated the fact that Cloud’s head was more or less up her skirt.

“Here.”

Aerith looked up to see dark red eyes, a curtain of black hair and a gloved hand reaching down towards her. She placed her hand in Tifa’s and watched as the fighter’s arm tensed, the muscles along it bunching and standing to beautiful attention as Tifa pulled her steadily up into the tree, up to the large branch that she was crouched upon.

“Steady,” the fighter cautioned in her low soft voice as Aerith wobbled a little on the branch beside her.

“Sorry,” Aerith muttered with another blush as she realised that in her instinctual grasping for balance her hands had landed one on Tifa’s shoulder and one on the younger girl’s forearm. The skin was soft and warm. The muscles rippled.

“It’s ok,” Tifa reassured her rather perfunctorily. “We’re heading for that branch,” she pointed up into the tree behind Aerith, “where I was a minute ago, and then there’s a smaller one just beyond it that I think you’ll be able to break the canopy from.”

“Ok.” Aerith made herself breathe; it seemed like the kind of thing that should come naturally but she was having some difficulty. She refused to admit to herself that that was because her hands were on Tifa’s bare shoulder and bare forearm and one of Tifa’s hands was steadying her at her waist.

“Do you think you can get up there by yourself or-?” The question hung for an embarrassing millisecond in which Aerith could only blink helplessly back at the crimson eyes searching her before Tifa quickly assumed the answer. “Ok, I’ll go first and pull you up after.”

It took Aerith another embarrassing millisecond to figure out what Tifa was waiting for before it clicked and she released her grip on the fighter. Unfortunately the suddenness of her motion unbalanced her again.

“Steady,” Tifa repeated softly, but this time there was the tiniest hint of a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth as Aerith grabbed at her for stability, the fighter’s hand staying firm at her waist.

“Sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

There was definitely a grin hiding in there now but Aerith could hardly blame her. Carefully, and she was yet to admit reluctantly, she removed her hands from Tifa’s shoulder and arm, turning to grab hold of the tree trunk instead and allow Tifa to move off.

Once she was sure Aerith was stable, it seemed only a moment before the young martial artist had reached around the flower girl and pulled herself easily up to the next branch and was turning back to offer Aerith a hand up. Aerith tried not to marvel at her feats too much; or, of course, at those beautiful, gracefully rippling muscles.

The process was repeated a number of times before, in an alarmingly short period of time, they were both perched on that high branch that Tifa had reached a few minutes before. There it was: the slightly narrower branch that would carry her up past the canopy edge. It was a close call but she trusted Tifa’s judgement; _it’ll take my weight._

The problem was, of course, that their method would now have to change: there would be no hand reaching down to pull her up onto this branch.

“Uh,” Aerith began as she reached up, grasping at the lowest part of the branch, where it met the trunk. “If I can just-”

“It’s alright,” Tifa said, stepping right in close behind Aerith and reaching up for the branch as well, as if to test the distance. Aerith could feel warm breath drift gently across the nape of her neck. “I can give you a boost.”

“Wha- uh-”

Aerith’s eyes were wide as Tifa crouched behind her and, instead of providing her with hands to stand on, the martial artist wrapped both her arms around Aerith’s thighs, her shoulder pushing just under Aerith’s butt.

“Ok?” came Tifa’s slightly muffled voice.

“Uh, yeah-?”

“And lift-”

Strong muscular arms clamped tightly around Aerith’s thighs and then she was being lifted up and up-

_Balancebalancebalancebalance- Sweet mother of- Gaia please help me balance!_

She gripped onto the branch, feeling it reaching ever more accessible heights and, with an inordinate amount of awkward scrambling, managed to pull herself up onto it. She stood slowly, very determinedly ignoring the tremors that seemed to have infected her knees, both hands grasping at the trunk for stability as finally she reached standing height and was able to see out over the canopy.

_Wow.... talk about nature’s beauty..._

The view was stunning. Grass and mountains and trees for miles around, not to mention the bright sparkling line of blue she just about managed to make out on the far west horizon.

“Can you see anything?” Tifa’s question floated up from below.

“It’s so beautiful up here,” Aerith called back down, her face glowing and her voice ringing with her wonder. “The forest is so beautiful and the mountains, and I think I can even see the sea!”

“Uh, I meant about the thief?”

Yet again Aerith’s face just had to give in to the inevitable blush as she realised she’d managed to completely forget their original reason for this treetop adventure.

“Sorry, uh, ummm,” she scoured around, desperate to see something, to be actually useful. “Sweet Shiva! I think I see her!”

Aerith was so shocked by her success she nearly fell out of the tree.

“Careful!” Tifa cried, relief crowding her voice as Aerith regained her balance and Tifa continued: “You’re going to give me a heart attack, Aerith.”

Aerith had to work very hard at not nearly falling out of the tree again as she looked down and saw the grinning warmth and concern on Tifa’s face. It felt like her lungs were tingling.

“Sorry,” she grinned back, bashfulness scoring highly through it. “Got a bit excited.”

“Evidently,” Tifa chuckled, shaking her head fondly. _She actually chuckled. Fondly._ “What did you see?”

“This bit of forest ends maybe a mile north of here where the river cuts it off; I think I saw her making a campfire up there.”

“Great,” Tifa grinned in triumph before calling down to the guys on the ground. “Did you guys hear that?”

“Sure did,” Barret called back.

“Well get going then,” Tifa replied. “It’ll take us a few minutes to get down the tree again so you guys go and get our materia back. We’ll find you by PHS later.”

“Ok, see you in a bit.”

“Don’t let Aerith fall out of the tree.” That last one was Cloud; Aerith felt a bit affronted, but the reasonable portion of her brain told her that Cloud had every right to assume she would fall out of the tree without Tifa’s assistance.

“Right,” Tifa said as she looked up at Aerith again. “Let’s get you down.”

“Yep,” Aerith replied and then stopped, entirely uncertain how to even begin going about achieving that goal. _This is how cats get stuck in trees..._

“Aerith?”

Tifa was evidently confused as to why Aerith was just standing there.

“Uh, I’m, uh, I’m not quite sure how...”

“Ok,” Tifa said, serious face firmly back in place. “It’s alright. If you can just get low on the branch until you’re sitting on it first, and then we’ll go from there.”

Rather gingerly, Aerith lowered herself down, half reassured and half distracted by the fact that Tifa’s crimson eyes were so constantly burning into her. The fighter’s low, soft, serious voice as it murmured encouragements kept ringing in Aerith’s ears.

“Now what?” she asked with some trepidation as she found herself sitting on the branch with Tifa stood on her branch in front of her and several feet below.

“I’ll catch you.”

Aerith had thought that might be what Tifa was going to say. It produced an interesting reaction in her stomach: lots and lots and lots and **lots** of nervous rattlings and ‘please-don’t-make-me-do-that’s, but there was definitely also an excited anticipation spark at the thought of being caught in Tifa’s arms. By Tifa. _Hmmm._

“Tifa...”

“It’ll be fine, I promise; I won’t let you fall.”

Aerith wondered for a moment if the whole issue might be decided for her by a bout of swooning.

“Ok...”

“Ok,” Tifa smiled her serious, solemn smile for encouragement and Aerith wished for a quick return of that amused smirk from before, even if it had been at her expense. “I’m ready when you are.” The fighter braced herself, feet apart, knees slightly bent, one hand on the tree trunk and the other following her gaze up towards Aerith.

“Here goes.”

Aerith wiggled herself inelegantly forward to the edge of her branch, leaning as far towards Tifa as she could before the branch ran out and she had to let herself fall. There was a whumph of air going out of her lungs as Tifa’s strong right arm caught Aerith’s waist and pulled her close in toward the fighter’s body. The flower girl’s feet flailed in the air for a moment before she managed to find some footing on the branch. Somehow Tifa’s balance was good enough to keep her stable throughout.

“I’ve got you.”

It was just the quietest of whispers but it was right by Aerith’s ear as Tifa held on tight behind her.

“I’ve got you.”

Aerith took the breath she hadn’t realised she’d not taken and found that, whilst her left hand was nice and sensibly gripping on to the tree trunk, her right hand was clinging with some desperation to Tifa’s hand where it was wrapped securely around her midriff.

“Uh, thanks,” Aerith murmured, loosening her grip a little as her heart’s hammering modulated.

“Ok,” Tifa said gently and stepped back; Aerith tried not to feel the loss of close contact. “I’ll go down to the next one.”

So the pattern followed as they made their way, branch by branch, down the tree. Each time Aerith lost a little bit more of her nervousness about the jump but the excited anticipation spark induced by the thought of Tifa’s arms wrapping so tightly about her only got brighter and hotter.

“Sorry for being so weedy,” she laughed in an attempt to mask her embarrassment about the whole thing as they brushed themselves down, now safely back on the ground.

“No problem,” the younger girl said with a pleasant but rather automatic smile, already rummaging in her pack for the PHS. “We all have our strengths and weaknesses.”

“Some of us have slightly more useful strengths than others though, it does have to be said; being able to grow flowers doesn’t really help us all that much in our quest to save the world.”

“Well, no,” Tifa said with an actual chuckle before she straightened and actually looked Aerith in the eye for an actual moment; Aerith tried to tell herself not to get excited about these kinds of things but wasn’t very successful. “But that wasn’t exactly the strength of yours I was referring to.” Tifa must have seen the ‘I-don’t-follow’ sign stamped on Aerith’s forehead because she frowned. “You do realise that you are by far the best materia user we have, right? Not to mention the best cook, the most organised with inventory and the best person to be around when bad things happen and you need cheering up.”

Aerith realised her mouth was hanging open in her surprise and promptly shut it. This was surely the longest and most effusively complementary thing that she had ever heard Tifa say; ever. And it had been said to her. About her.

And now Tifa was blushing.

And it was adorable.


	3. Chapter 3

_I’d never realised it was possible to make those blue Shinra uniforms look attractive..._

She realised she was staring just before Tifa clocked her as they adjusted their stolen uniforms. Aerith hoped her cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt hot, even as she brushed imaginary dust from her sailor outfit.

It didn’t really make any sense; the bulky blue uniform covered much of what she’d categorised as the parts that made up the whole of Tifa’s stunning beauty: shoulders, arms, midriff ( _oh the midriff!_ ), ridiculously long legs... Even that luscious mane of thick raven hair had been stuffed up into the helmet.

But somehow, Tifa in that uniform....

“I can’t believe I’m wearing this thing,” the fighter muttered, straightening her jacket. “I mean, I get it; it’s a good plan. I just...”

“I know,” Aerith said gently, only just about resisting the temptation to rest a hand-of-understanding on the younger girl’s arm. “I know, they’re horrible and they represent horrible things.” Red eyes met hers in the cracked and dusty mirror they were stood in front of. She couldn’t help smiling a little, not only at the thought she was about to voice but at the fact that she knew she could probably get away with it now. “At least you somehow manage to make it look good.”

That darling little blush flooded across Tifa’s cheeks the moment the words were out of Aerith’s mouth, but it was accompanied by the most gloriously bashful smile that any human had ever possessed.

Aerith was fairly certain that if she’d said something like that a month or so ago, the fighter’s response would have been much more prickly, defensive even. Something had softened the younger girl; she didn’t know whether it was a specific event or merely the fact that they were no longer strangers but Tifa, who she had barely managed to make crack a smile in Midgar, was slowly beginning to let her in.

“Hardly,” the young fighter protested, in obvious and adorably bashful pleasure. “Although, you in that sailor suit...”

Tifa’s blush intensified and Aerith almost couldn’t believe the way the martial artist’s dark eyes rested on her for a moment, as if on the precipice of saying something even more blush-inducing.

“Y’all ready in there?” Barret’s question was accompanied by the pounding hammer of his fist on the door. “Cos we need to get goin’ if we gonna catch that boat!”

“Uh-” Aerith tried to speak but made a rather strangled squawking sound instead. “We’ll be there in a sec!”

Tifa’s brilliantly burning red eyes held hers for just a split second longer before she cleared her throat, eyes dropping to grab their packs from the floor.

“Here,” she said, holding Aerith’s pack out to her. “We should go.”

Aerith did her best not to think about the clichéd ‘spark-of-electricity’ in her skin as her fingers brushed Tifa’s to take the pack; she was unsuccessful.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sweet Gaia above and below...._

Aerith was fairly certain she had never in her life been more pleased by the effectiveness of her supposed ‘silver-tongued persuasion’.

The team had decided to spend one night’s rest at the inn at Costa del Sol; the events on the ship had shaken them all a little so general consensus was that a decent night’s rest was worth the minor delay of losing what little was left of the day’s travel. A side effect of this decision was that they had a whole late-afternoon and evening to spare in the famous beach resort; the sun was glorious and hazy and golden and made the water look very inviting, even for one such as Aerith who didn’t know how to swim. Especially when the list of potential swim instructors was being topped by Tifa Lockhart.

Tifa had been rather reluctant to begin with but it hadn’t taken Aerith long to determine the somewhat astonishing reason for this: the dark haired Nibelheim beauty was shy of wearing a bathing suit, especially when they discovered that the only thing available at the beach-side store was a lovely range of bikinis.

Nonetheless, the fighter had conceded after much wheedling and relentless prodding from Aerith and now the flower girl was able to reap the rewards of/be completely bowled over by the results of her efforts.

“Don’t laugh,” the martial artist muttered as she slunk out of the changing booth she’d been using. The black bikini she was wearing was not inducing any inclination to laughter in Aerith who was waiting on the sand outside for her.

“Tifa, sweetie,” Aerith replied, having forced herself to regain some composure, linking her arm rather daringly through Tifa’s and tugging her towards the water, “I can honestly say that my instinctual reaction to seeing you in a bikini is so very far from laughter.”

Aerith just about caught the blush spreading up Tifa’s neck and over her cheeks but missed whatever dark protest it was that the fighter mumbled under her breath. Darkly-But-Ineffectually-Protesting-Bashful-Tifa was one of Aerith’s favourite versions.

The fighter seemed to relax a little once they actually reached the water, wading in to chest height and letting the freshness of the water revive them. Aerith herself felt a vague increase in nervousness at this point due to her complete inexperience of any such thing, but it was hard to be afraid when Tifa was right there; especially when her attire was quite that distracting.

“So have you literally never swum before?”

“Never.”

“I suppose if you’ve always lived in Midgar-”

“There aren’t exactly public swimming pools in the slums.”

“I guess not.” Tifa ‘hmm’ed for a moment, perhaps contemplating where to begin; Aerith tried not to let her eyes wonder too far but it was not an entirely successfully waged war. Her eyes caught more than once on the thick, slightly jagged white line that was running across Tifa’s chest, but she really didn’t want Tifa to catch her staring at that of all things; talk about ways to make a girl uncomfortable.

Before long Tifa had her doggy-paddling back and forth, as ever calling those soft, low encouragements. There was no point in denying that the real highlights for Aerith were the moments when Tifa would come right up close and demonstrate something or, even better, actually grab hold of one of Aerith’s limbs and guide it through a motion. Aerith’s ultimate favourite teaching moment had to, of course, be the moment at which Tifa said:

“Try to keep your body flatter, it’ll help you be more streamlined; try raising your torso so your back is closer to parallel with the surface of the water.”

And then Tifa came closer and reached one hand under the water. This hand gently found its way to Aerith’s lower stomach where it pressed flat against her, raising her bodily toward the surface of the water.

This didn’t really improve Aerith’s swimming ability in that moment because all she could think about was the fact that Tifa’s hand was _right there...._

As with all such swimming lessons, this one eventually devolved into a rather epic splash fight and Aerith found herself rather overwhelmed by the realisation that, no matter quite how drool-inducingly gorgeous Tifa’s body was, nothing could compare to the sheer beauty of her face when it lit up like that. Her eyes were so bright and full of life, her smile wide and full of laughter, every ounce of her oft-suppressed mischief coming out to play and dazzling Aerith with its gloriousness.

“You know, I’m pretty sure if we filmed this we could sell it for a whole lot of money.”

The splashing and the laughter stopped fairly immediately as Yuffie’s voice cut across the water from where she stood, arms crossed on the beach, smirk firmly in place.

“Well,” Aerith cleared her throat, trying to somehow shield Tifa’s embarrassment to prevent its exacerbation, “if you think you should be paying money then do feel free to cough up a few gil.”

“Not likely,” the young ninja scoffed. “I came to tell you that we’re all going to go have dinner in a few minutes so you should probably dry off if you want to join. But I suppose you might have different plans for, uh, eating out altogether.”

“Yuffie-” Aerith practically growled as she saw Tifa all but burning up with the force of her uncomfortable blush.

“Have fun!”

“We’ll be there in a minute!” Aerith called after her, receiving only a vague wave of dismissal over the shoulder as their laughing antagonist walked away.

“We should, uh, we should probably get going,” Tifa mumbled through her only slightly lessened blush.

“I suppose,” Aerith agreed with a sigh. “But it has been very fun and very instructive.” _Be daring; go on!_ She reached for one of Tifa’s hands through the clear water and felt a small but furious shot of relief when Tifa allowed her to take it. “Thanks, Tifa; I mean it.”

“You’re, uh, you’re welcome,” the younger girl smiled one of those magnificently tiny bashful smiles and, in a moment that nearly made Aerith’s heart stop in ridiculous excitement, squeezed the flower girl’s hand. And then Aerith almost did swoon as the bashful smile morphed into a mischievous one. “Just remind me not to side with you if we find ourselves in a mass water fight because, well, your splashing technique could use some work.”

And with that she let go of Aerith’s hand so she had both of hers available to scoop an enormous wave of water over the flower girl’s head.

“Tifa Lockhart! You get back here!!” Aerith squealed in protesting delight as the beautifully cackling Tifa made her splashy escape back to the beach.


	5. Chapter 5

“Aerith? Aerith?!”

“I’m- I-I’m over here, Tifa.” She could hear the worry in Tifa’s voice and forced herself to speak. _Get it together, Aerith_ , she scolded herself. _This is just confirmation of what you already knew; it’s been over five years for Shiva’s sake._

“Aerith,” the relief in Tifa’s voice was clear and would, in any other moment, have made Aerith’s heart do one of its ridiculously hoppy-skippy dances. “Aerith, are you alright?”

Aerith had to smile, even in this moment, at Tifa’s awkward hesitancy before the martial artist took a breath and crouched down to be at eye level with the flower girl who was now huddled on the ground out the back of Zack’s parents’ house, leaning against the wall and trying to compose herself. She raised her eyes to meet Tifa’s and saw such concern and such intensity in that gaze that she broke down all over again.

“Hey,” Tifa’s soft low voice sang softly over the shuffling sound of her feet as the fighter came to huddle beside Aerith on the ground. And then, after a small moment, Aerith felt the younger girl shift again before one of those wonderfully strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her into the fighter’s body. She turned her face into Tifa’s shoulder, feeling finally able to let go of some of the shock and the grief that had a stranglehold on her; something about being held like this by Tifa Lockhart gave her the release she needed to let the tears out properly.

They must have sat there like that for a good ten minutes while all Aerith was able to do was to just hold onto Tifa and let the last five years’ worth of semi-suppressed grief pour out. The fighter’s right arm was tight around her, the left hanging loosely around Aerith’s waist, providing her with something else to hold onto.

Eventually, the force of her sobs began to subside until they were just sat there together, letting the silence soothe for a moment, Tifa’s arms still strong around her.

“I, uh, I take it you knew him then? Zack?” Tifa asked gently.

“Yes,” Aerith replied with a sigh, allowing herself to stay snuggled into Tifa for a little while longer. “He was, well really he was my best friend. We dated for a little while, though not particularly seriously, but I missed him, missed my friend.”

“What happened?”

“Well, he got sent on a mission five years ago, nothing particularly unusual, and we kept in touch by letters like usual but then he just stopped writing and I never saw him again. I guess I kind of knew he was dead really, but there’s always that spark of hope. It was just a bit of a shock, hearing that out of the blue. I suppose I should have figured we might run into his parents in Gongaga.”

“You can’t always predict these things,” Tifa said gently, her arms tightening for a moment; Aerith couldn’t help snuggling closer, for surely there was no comfort in the world so good as being snuggled by Tifa Lockhart. “The world is a strange and increasingly small place, I think.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I,” the fighter hesitated and Aerith heard her stop breathing for a moment. “I think I knew Zack too.”

“What?” Aerith pulled back, her confusion making her need to see Tifa’s face. “What do you mean you ‘think’ you knew him.”

“It’s... I don’t know, Aerith, it’s pretty weird... I don’t want to make things worse for you.”

“No, it’s ok; you never know, it might help just to know...something...”

“Ok,” Tifa said after a moment’s sceptical hesitation. “Well, uh, you remember what Cloud told us in Kalm about what happened in Nibelheim?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well, I kind of remember it differently. Not the events, just, well, in my memory, Cloud wasn’t there at all. The story he told was exactly what happened, but it was a 1st class member of SOLDIER called Zack Fair instead of Cloud.”

“Zack was involved in Nibelheim? Why didn’t you say anything in Kalm?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought there must have been something wrong with my memory, some kind of PTSD or something. It made more sense to me that I was remembering wrong than that Cloud was remembering events he hadn’t witnessed. I guess I assumed I’d invented Zack Fair but if those are his parents in there and you knew him too and it all kind of dovetails pretty well with the timeline for Nibelheim...”

“Five years ago...”

“Exactly.”

It was a lot to take in.

“But that means that something really weird is going on with Cloud,” Aerith murmured, unable not to think about the unavoidable parallels that she’d seen between the reticent blonde man and her much more vivacious but long-gone friend.

“I know,” Tifa said, worry evident in her voice. “I’m pretty certain he truly believed everything he said in Kalm.” Tifa paused, her gaze dropping before meeting Aerith’s again. “I probably owe my life to Zack and he died. And I never bothered to find out what happened to him.”

“Oh sweetie,” Aerith murmured, her heart aching now for Tifa as the fighter’s gaze dropped again. She could see Tifa’s jaw clenching and the slightest tremble in her lower lip. “When exactly would you have had time to find out? When you were nearly dying from a wound given you by Sephiroth? When you were trying to recover from the fact that he destroyed your home town, killing almost everyone that you knew? When you were trying to start a new life in a new city whilst simultaneously fighting against the evil ruling corporation?” She tried not to catch at her breath as she saw a lone tear escape silently down Tifa’s cheek.

“I should have stopped; I should have thought for him. I dishonoured him and he died.”

“Tifa you did no such thing,” Aerith countered firmly, casting aside her hesitations and reaching across to cup Tifa’s cheek, drawing her gaze up to meet her own. “I knew Zack pretty well and I know he would have considered it an honour to have known you and an even greater honour to have played a part in saving your life.” She gently brushed that lone tear away. “He would have been especially glad to have saved your life if he knew how glad I am to have you here in mine, how much I need you here.”

She saw Tifa swallow a heavy swallow, her scarlet eyes still flickering with guilt and shame but now allowing tiny flashes of hope as well.

“I found them!” Yuffie’s cry over her shoulder almost shocked Aerith in the intimacy of her moment with Tifa. “Is, uh, is everything ok back here?” The young ninja’s voice softened as she approached and saw the tangle of limbs and tears that was Aerith and Tifa.

“Yeah,” Aerith replied with a deep breath, turning an almost bright smile to their youngest travelling companion, somehow hoping to shield Tifa from the need to present a happy face to the world right now. “We just need a minute and we’ll be there. You guys go on and find an inn, we’ll meet you there in a few.”

“Okey doke,” Yuffie replied a little awkwardly. “Uh, take your time; we’ll see you when we see you.”

“Thanks, Yuffie,” she smiled at Yuffie before the young girl turned and walked back towards the others, halting their approach and ushering them away. Aerith turned back to Tifa beside her and felt her heart ache again at the sight, the martial artist’s watery red eyes fixed unblinking on the ground, guilt having apparently reclaimed her. “Tifa, look at me,” Aerith instructed gently, again finding the boldness to reach out and physically draw the fighter’s gaze up to hers. “The way I see it, your life since Nibelheim has been about trying to survive, trying to make your life count; if you ask me, there aren’t many better ways to honour the sacrifice of someone who gave their life to preserve yours.”

Aerith watched, her insides melting, as Tifa’s eyes widened and a tiny, almost helpless little smile formed on her face.

“How do you always know the exact right thing to say?”

“This,” Aerith grinned fondly, unable not to draw her fingers gently across Tifa’s jaw line, “from the woman who just converted me from a crying mess of tears back into something resembling a human being in, like, ten minutes?”

“Well I didn’t exactly say anything,” Tifa rejoined with a small snuff of laughter. “I just sat here.”

“Yeah, and sometimes nothing is the exact right thing to say. Besides which, I’m talking about the evidently magical healing powers in your arms because I swear it shouldn’t be possible to feel so soothed just by being hugged by someone.”

And now there was more adorable blushing. Aerith realised she was going to have to do something about all this adorableness before too long.


	6. Chapter 6

Aerith had never understood why fires are quite as mesmerising as they are. Somehow it just seemed impossible to look away from the flash and the yellow and orange and red, the crack and the pop. Even the impossible wonder of the wide starry night hanging over Cosmo Canyon was being eclipsed by the magnetism of the fire.

She wondered briefly if that said anything about her as a person, that she could be so consumed by a vision of something as destructive as fire that she couldn’t even take her eyes away to look at the stars.

“Hey there, Ms. Pensive.”

Not even fire could distract her from the beauty of one Tifa Lockhart. She looked up at the sound of her friend’s soft, low voice and saw her approaching Aerith in her solitary repose by the fire, carrying a couple of steaming drinks.

“I managed to persuade the barman to show me how to make a Cosmo Candle and, going by how good this tastes, if I ever open another bar this will definitely be on the menu. Here.” She handed Aerith one of the steaming mugs and the flower girl sniffed at it: _Rum...blackcurrant...something?_ “He was a bit reluctant to part with his recipe at first,” Tifa said as she sat down beside Aerith, “but I managed to persuade him that if I knew how to make his drink then it would only be spreading word of how good the drink from here is.”

Aerith had to grin at that, certain that it hadn’t just been just Tifa’s impeccable logic that had won him over, much as her sometimes ingenuous young friend might believe it.

“That is good,” the flower girl murmured, having taken a sip of the hot drink and felt it warm her through all the way down to her toes.

“I thought you might like it,” Tifa replied with one of those increasingly frequent little smiles that shot straight to Aerith’s heart.

Or at least they normally did. Aerith still felt that now-familiar tightening in her chest that this kind of closeness with Tifa usually induced, but it was muted by the shadow hanging over her that she hadn’t been able to shake all day. Not since her dream. Not since the Cosmo Canyon elders had said-

“Is- is everything ok?” Tifa’s voice was hesitant, worried but trying not to show it. Aerith glanced up at her, trying not to feel defensive or guarded, but something must have shown because Tifa’s face flitted over a frown and into a picture of intensely awkward discomfort. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, I just-” She stopped, edging away a little, and Aerith wanted to chastise herself very loudly.

“Tifa,” she made herself speak, reaching over and taking the young fighter’s hand. She could practically see the relief thrum through Tifa as they made contact. “It’s ok, I’m just-” _I can’t tell her. I can’t tell her; there’s no way she’d let me go. She’d try to stop me and I have to-_ “I think I’m just a bit tired, you know?”

“Yeah,” the fighter said softly, squeezing Aerith’s hand. “It’s not exactly been uneventful this last week or so.”

“Indeed,” Aerith smiled, grateful for a split second that they’d found out about Zack so recently and could use that as an excuse for her current melancholy. _‘Excuse’? What am I becoming? You need excuses for bad and wrong things; that means I should tell her. She’ll feel so betrayed if I don’t, and- and I won’t get to say goodbye- I CAN’T TELL HER!_

“It really is beautiful here, though,” Tifa said, tipping her head back and gazing up into the starry sky. Aerith couldn’t help murmuring her agreement as she looked at Tifa, the river of her black hair tumbling to the ground behind her, the profile of her face in the glow of the firelight, her long neck, stretched out in a display of its elegance as she looked to the sky...

“Beautiful...”

“Barret says this place is where Avalanche was born, its ideology at any rate. He always talked about it with such awe and wistfulness. Now that we’re here I guess I can see it, but I never used to like it.”

“Why?”

“Well, I guess, it’s probably because it’s not far from where Nibelheim used to be.” _Oh._ Tifa paused and Aerith wondered for a moment if she was finished talking. “My mum got sick when I was little and we had to bring her here for treatment because the healers here are supposed to be better than the ones in Nibelheim were. It was quite drawn out and then she, well, she died in the end, so I guess my child’s mind told me that Cosmo Canyon was just horrible.” Aerith’s heart caught in her throat. “Evidently I was wrong.”

“You’ve had so much taken from you.” The words were out of Aerith’s mouth before she could stop herself, tears beginning to fall down her face as the ugly thoughts reared in her mind: _I’m going to take something else from her too; I’m going to take me from her and she doesn’t know it; she doesn’t even know quite how much I belong to her now-_

“Aerith,” Tifa’s worry face came back instantly and she quickly put down her drink and pulled the flower girl to her. “Aerith I’m fine; it was a really long time ago and, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but at least as many terrible things that have happened to me have happened to you. But we’ve survived, haven’t we? We’ve made it through-”

Aerith simply could not bear that, could not bear to hear Tifa taking comfort in the fact that they had both survived when she knew now that her days were decidedly and definitely numbered. She had so little time left to show Tifa quite how much she meant to her-

Aerith wasn’t sure whether her mind or her body arrived at the decision first, but she pulled back from Tifa’s embrace only enough to push forward again. The moment her lips touched Tifa’s, she knew that even if she’d had whole lifetimes left in this world she would never have enough time to kiss Tifa as much as she needed to.

If Tifa seemed surprised in the first instant, that surprise soon vanished. The martial artist’s strong arms tightened forcibly around Aerith’s waist, almost crushing them together in the best way possible and Aerith rejoiced in it, hoping that somehow, if she held on tight enough, Fate would show her mercy and let her never have to let go.


	7. Chapter 7

The whole world seemed to have turned upside down and inside out and back to front and every other way of describing something to be utterly and mindbogglingly non-sense-making.

Aerith was more deliriously happy than she had realised she had the capability to be.

She was also absolutely distraught.

She was both of these things 100% of the time.

Tifa was everything she’d ever wanted in a lover and more. The young martial artist was passionate and serious and playful and delighted by everything; she was strong and gentle and fierce and vulnerable and basically the most impossible depiction of perfection imaginable.

And she had given her love, her whole self, to Aerith.

Aerith, who loved Tifa more than she had realised it was possible to love.

Aerith, who had just found out that her time in this world would very soon be ending.

Aerith, who knew that she would, that she must, make this sacrifice for Tifa’s sake as much as anything else; she would give her life to save the world for Tifa.

Aerith, who knew that if she told Tifa what she knew, the younger girl would never let her make that journey up to the Forgotten City.

Never had the world made less sense.

It seemed almost fitting then that they arrived at what should have been the ruins of a dead town to find it happily thriving.

They just stood there on the outskirts of Nibelheim, staring.

“I....I don’t understand.”

Silence again for a few moments; Aerith wrapped her arms around Tifa’s waist, trying to offer her understandably bewildered girlfriend some kind of support.

“I’m not lying.” Cloud’s equally baffled face turned to them, his eyes a little wild.

“We know,” Yuffie said, gently laying a hand on his arm. “It just...”

“I don’t understand.”

Aerith tightened her grip, pressed a kiss to Tifa’s shoulder.

They entered the town, every new sight bringing more confusion.

“The buildings are all the same; identical,” Cloud murmured; his frown was so deep it would have been comical if everything about this situation didn’t make Aerith’s heart ache.

“M-my house...”

Aerith’s chest tightened that little bit more as Tifa stared at the largest building in the main part of town, her eyes beginning to shimmer.

Suddenly Tifa was running.

It took only half a split second of reaction time before Aerith was quick on her heels.

“Tifa!”

She almost crashed into the fighter as she entered the house. She stood in silence for a second, watching a gamut of unnameable emotions crashing across Tifa’s face. The younger girl reached for her hand suddenly and Aerith of course gave it to her, almost relishing the pain of Tifa’s terrified vice-like grip as something to hold onto other than the fear and confusion.

“I don’t understand,” the words came out in a whisper. “All this- all this should be- I... I don’t understand.” She stopped suddenly and looked searchingly at Aerith and Aerith did her best to be something helpful but had no idea how to go about achieving that goal. “Aerith... This is... This is the house that I grew up in, this was my home...”

“Is-? Is it all the same?”

“I- I think-” Tifa’s breath caught for a moment. “This is mad.” She strode over to the sideboard and picked up a picture frame. “This- this frame is identical to one that we had that was sat on a sideboard identical to this but the picture- The picture is of some random woman and child instead of my mum and me-! I- I don’t understand! Aerith!?”

It was the panic in Tifa’s voice that broke Aerith’s heart the most.

“Tifa-” she murmured, pulling her close again, cupping her face to make her meet her eyes. “Tifa, baby, breathe for me.”

The usually fearless fighter’s wide eyes just about managed to focus on Aerith’s, her breathing beginning to slow and to regulate, her panic decreasing. Aerith felt some of the tension in her bones lessen as Tifa’s terror seemed to calm a little, the fighter’s eyes closing as she allowed Aerith to pull her close, to cradle her for a moment.

“Baby, I don’t understand either but we both know that Shinra is behind this. There will be an explanation, we just need to dig it out, ok?”

Tifa nodded, mumbling her assent against Aerith’s ear. Aerith couldn’t help pressing a kiss to her temple and holding her tightly for a few moments longer.

“Can- can we go and check something upstairs?”

“Of course, honey; whatever you need. I’m here, ok?”

“Ok.”

She followed Tifa up the stairs, her hand still clutched possessively in the fighter’s own.

“It... It’s still here.”

Aerith watched with no small fascination as Tifa released her hand in order to run her fingers along the keys of a somewhat ancient looking upright piano.

“You play?”

“Yeah.” Aerith felt her body tighten in a different way altogether as a kind of nostalgic dreamy smile drifted across her girlfriend’s face. “Yeah, my mum taught me when I was little and then I guess I kept playing to kind of, I don’t know, keep close to her.” Aerith hadn’t realised it was possible for her to fall more in love with Tifa than she already was.

“Would-” she hesitated, not sure whether this was an appropriate time to make this request. Her heart gave a horribly painful twist with another thought: _if I don’t ask now I probably won’t ever get the chance..._ “Would you play for me?”

“Now?” And the return of the bashful nervousness.

“Only if you want to,” Aerith said hastily; “Today has had a lot of weird thrown at it already so if it’s too much then don’t-”

“It’s- it’s not too much, I just-” Tifa blushed with one of those beautiful self-deprecating grins. “I haven’t played in quite a while, so I can’t guarantee you’ll enjoy the experience.”

“You are a doof,” Aerith replied with great certainty and fondness, leaning in to place a kiss on her lover’s lips. “I know I will.”

Tifa grinned again, rather nervously pulling the piano stool out so she could sit down. And then she began to play.

Aerith wished she could add a ‘Forever Listening to Tifa Play the Piano’ to her ‘Forever Kissing Tifa’.


	8. Chapter 8

“We’ll be back in an hour or so; two at the most,” Tifa called back to the others as the two girls made their way down the path away from camp.

Aerith could see that her girlfriend was still reeling from what they’d seen in Nibelheim so had leapt at the chance when the young martial artist had mentioned the possibility of a quick diversion before bed to go and see her favourite natural beauty spot in the Nibel Mountains. Keeping positive thoughts and happy memories in the forefront of Tifa’s mind was something Aerith was keen to do; not to mention of course the fact that she’d always wanted to see a natural materia fountain and had thought she never would.

As they walked down the steep mountain path, Tifa told her all sorts of stories of her time as a mountain tour guide: wildlife she’d seen, monsters she’d had to fight, truly stupid things the people she’d been guiding had wanted to do. Aerith’s chest tightened horribly at the story of how Tifa herself had landed in a coma, a young child grief stricken and confused and then struck down by a faulty bridge. Tifa, of course, all but laughed it off.

“It’s just through here,” Tifa said as she ducked into a cave, her voice slightly hushed, reverent even.

As they came out of the cave to the clearing, Aerith understood Tifa’s reverence. Beautiful, unearthly green light suffused the air, emanating from a sparkling shimmering mirage of brightness at the centre; glowing so brightly it almost hurt to look directly at it. The last of the late evening’s sun was just about hanging on in the valley, shimmering through the mountain mist to mingle with the light coming up from within the planet itself.

“It’s...”

Aerith felt her throat clamp shut with her inability to find words to describe the beauty or to thank Tifa for giving her this chance to witness it.

“I know,” Tifa murmured her agreement, her arms snaking around Aerith’s waist from behind. Aerith had to close her eyes for a moment, her own hands coming up to hold onto Tifa’s as she leaned back against her, trying somehow to capture this perfect moment and store it for another perfect Forever.

They stood together like that in silent contemplation for a few minutes.

“I used to come here by myself quite a lot when I was a kid. After mum died. I used to think maybe this was where she could find me.”

Aerith could feel her throat clogging again, the tears threatening to break free even as she fought tooth and nail to hold them back.

“Tifa,” she started softly, turning in her lover’s arms to meet her gaze. She’d intended to say more first but couldn’t help kissing her then. _She is the most perfect, the best thing in this whole world. She should never have to feel pain again; never._

“Aerith, what’s wrong?” There were the beginnings of almost frantic worry lurking in Tifa’s eyes as she broke the kiss; Aerith realised she’d started crying again. Tifa was no idiot.

“Nothing,” Aerith lied, hoping to wipe out the desperation hiding in her chest, smiling through her tears and hoping Tifa would believe her. “Nothing’s wrong, baby, I just-” She pulled the younger girl back in again, needing the reassurance of her kiss, needing to feel her pain borne away on the currents of bliss.

“I love you, Aerith.”

The words were whispered so quietly Aerith might have missed them if every atom of her focus had not been on Tifa already. She felt them gently explode inside her heart, shattering her even as they filled her with a new kind of joy altogether.

Tifa’s dark eyes were still worried as they roamed Aerith’s face, vulnerability leaking into them too now.

“Tifa,” Aerith just about managed to breathe, nuzzling her closer. “I love you so much, Tifa; so much.”

It felt like there was a void in her chest, a vacuum in her throat, and its hunger could and would only be satisfied by Tifa, by her closeness and her kiss and her everything.

Aerith tried not to think about the fact that Tifa was holding onto her just as tightly, as desperately, that she needed her just as badly. She tried not to think what she would be taking from her before the year was out.


	9. Chapter 9

“Aerith!!? AERITH!?!”

“Tifa! Over here!”

“AERITH!!”

Aerith just about managed to call the words out without swallowing a lungful of water. The force of the Tiny Bronco’s spinning as it fell out of the air had thrown her from her precarious place on the edge of a wing, ripping her from Tifa’s rather desperate grip and throwing her into the water. _Good job I had some swimming lessons in Costa del Sol,_ she thought to herself as she struggled with her beginners’ doggy-paddle towards where the plane had landed.

It wasn’t long, of course before Tifa reached her, the martial artist’s powerful swim-stroke jetting her through the water.

“Are you alright? Are you injured? Is it-”

“Tifa, sweetie,” Aerith cut her off with a grin, allowing herself to relax a little now that Tifa’s arm was around her waist and she could wrap her arms and legs around the fighter as she easily held them both up, treading water as she frantically checked Aerith for injury, “I’m fine. I remember having swimming lessons from a very sexy swimming instructor a few months back so I have just about managed to keep my head above water.”

Tifa’s blushing bashfulness was always adorable; when it got combined with this much relief, the adorableness was so strong it nearly knocked Aerith out.

“Just as long as you’re ok,” the fighter mumbled through her blush and Aerith couldn’t help pressing close for a small kiss, careful to keep it quick so the water couldn’t claim them.

They made their way back to the others, Aerith doing most of her own swimming but only too glad to let Tifa lend her a helping hand from time to time.

“Everyone alright?” Cloud called out as they approached the now floating by-plane.

“You need a better grip, little girl,” the gruff plane’s captain grinned, a somehow still-lit cigarette clamped between his lips.

“No injuries,” Tifa replied to Cloud; Aerith could see a little ripple of politely-repressed-anger flash across her lover’s face as her gaze swept past Cid and realised that she may have to subtly suggest that Cid’s manner of speaking didn’t necessarily mean he was as horrible and sexist as he sometimes sounded.

“Indeed,” she replied to the captain in an almost pointedly jovial manner. “Swimming with Tifa is always a fun experience, but I do prefer to do it on purpose instead of by accident.”

“I bet,” he laughed and Aerith saw the gentleness in his eyes that proved she was right about him.

“Do you think you can get the plane functional again?” Cloud asked, turning to Cid.

“To fly? Not a chance; not without a whole bunch of new parts to replace the ones those damn Shinra assholes busted and there’s no way I can afford that any time soon. I reckon we could use it as a boat though. Not a long-haul, deep water kinda thing, but short distances... There’s life in her yet!”

“Well,” Cloud said with a sigh, “something’s better than nothing.”

“We should call the others,” Tifa said, rummaging through her pack for her PHS, “let them know we’re ok and what’s happened.”

“Good point,” Cloud nodded; “we can figure out where’s next together.”

“That is a damn good point; if I’m joining up with you numbskulls I want to at least know where we’re headed.”

“Well, we’re not sure exactly. We’re after Shinra but we’re also after a guy named Sephiroth.”

“Sephiroth?” Cid’s eyebrows rose almost comically. “Well you can kill two birds with one stone; Rufus said he was goin' after Sephiroth towards the Temple of the Ancients, wherever that is.” 

“Temple of the Ancients?” Aerith, Cloud and Tifa all questioned in unison and Aerith felt a strong, sharp return of queasy discomfort in her stomach. 

“That’s what I said, ya bunch of parrots,” the captain frowned at them all curiously before shaking his head and ducking back into the cockpit. Aerith could feel Tifa and Cloud’s eyes on her and it wasn’t helping the queasiness. 

“I don’t know anything about it,” she said quietly, feeling bolstered as Tifa’s hand slipped into hers. “I didn’t even know there was a temple.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I- I’d like to see it though.” She had to wrestle her tongue around the words, certain as she was that this trip to this particular temple could only be ushering her closer to her final moments in this world. 

“Of course,” Tifa said, squeezing her hand as she sensed her discomfort, even if she misunderstood its cause. “I’ll call the others and let them know; one of them might know something about where we can find it.” 

Aerith nodded, grateful that Cloud turned to join Cid in the cockpit and Tifa immediately pulled her closer, one of those strong arms wrapped tight around her waist. Nothing in the world was so soothing as being held tightly by Tifa Lockhart. Aerith turned in toward her lover, taking the comfort offered, resting into the taller girl’s embrace as Tifa spoke to Barret on the PHS. She rested her head against her lover’s shoulder, her gaze wandering across pale, faintly sun-freckled skin covering beautiful collar bones and another shoulder, interrupted only briefly by the white of Tifa’s shirt and the black of her braces. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent and warmth of Tifa’s skin, her very closeness, allowing her fingers to play gently in Tifa’s still-damp hair.  

 _I love the sound of her voice._  

“Ok, we’ll see you at the Gold Saucer then,” the fighter said, her tone and her words alerting Aerith to the fact that her conversation was ending. “You too.” 

“Gold Saucer?” Aerith asked, as Tifa dropped her PHS back in her pack and let her now-free arm join its fellow in wrapping tightly around Aerith.  

“Yep,” the fighter replied, pressing a small kiss to Aerith’s forehead that made the flower girl’s heart swell with almost overwhelmingly beautiful and painful love. “Apparently Red thinks the Temple of the Ancients isn’t too far from there and also there’s a rumour that you need a ‘Keystone’ to enter the Temple and that Dio, of the Gold Saucer, has this Keystone.” 

“Well that’s a convenient bit of knowledge to come across.” 

“I guess,” Tifa snuffed a laugh, pulling Aerith that impossible bit tighter and pressing another kiss to her forehead. “Are you sure you’re ok about this?” Aerith sighed, closing her eyes and nuzzling gently into the crook of Tifa’s neck for comfort, trying to get a hold of the emotions trying to break free inside her. Some things really did have to be kept inside. 

“I am,” she murmured, forcing herself to pull back enough to meet Tifa’s eye, forcing herself to look like she meant what she was saying. “I mean, it’s going to be strange but...” 

“I’ll be right there with you,” Tifa said, her red eyes burning intensely as she brought one gloved hand up to cup Aerith’s cheek. Aerith almost lost her control altogether. “I’m not going anywhere.” 


	10. Chapter 10


    Aerith wanted to shake herself.
    
    
      
    
    
    
      _What was I thinking!? Almost saying- And then just bolting out of there!? Tifa’s already worried; this isn’t exactly going to reassure her..._
    
    
    
    There was a soft knock at the door and then Tifa’s soft, low voice floated rather hesitantly through:
    
    
    “Aerith? I’m coming in-?”
    
    
    Even in the gloomy light of the Gold Saucer’s Ghost Hotel, Aerith could plainly make out the worry stamped in bold on Tifa’s face. The fighter’s brows were knit together in a confused frown, her deep red eyes full of concern and a little hint of fear.
    
    
    “Aerith-”
    
    
    “Tifa-” 
    
    
    Aerith had to interrupt her, just could not allow her the time to start questioning what had happened down in the lobby. She’d promised herself and promised the Planet that she wouldn’t tell Tifa about her apparently Fated meeting with Sephiroth at the Forgotten City, but that didn’t mean it was an easy promise to keep.
    
    
    She moved forwards into Tifa’s space, wrapping herself in the taller girl’s arms and leaning up to kiss her; it wasn’t just a distraction technique for _Tifa_. Few things could override any thoughts in Aerith’s head quite so completely as physical intimacy with Tifa Lockhart. The strength of the arms around her, the softness and the warmth, even the numerous calluses on the fighter’s hands set her on fire as they traced so gently and purposefully across her skin.
    
    
    “I love you.”
    
    
    Aerith felt her heart implode and explode for the thousandth time as Tifa whispered her promise against her lips in the kiss.
    
    
      _Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t you dare cry-_
    
    
    
    “I love you too,” she murmured, battling with every ounce of her will against the wobble that threatened her vocal cords and the tears that were trying to break free.
    
    
    She pulled back from the kiss, forcing herself to meet Tifa’s eye and forcing herself to smile.
    
    
    “Are you sure you’re ok?”
    
    
    “I am; honestly.” _Liar._ “I think I’m just a bit worn out, you know? It’s just all been a bit intense and recapping it all just kind of brought home the fact that our lives have been insane for so long and are going to continue to be insane for the foreseeable future.” _In fact for the rest of my life because, in order for us to win, I’ll need to be dead in about a month._ Aerith had never hated herself more.
    
    
    “It has been pretty non-stop,” Tifa agreed, resting her forehead against Aerith’s with a soft smile that melted Aerith to her core. She gave in and pressed forward to kiss her again, this time soft and slow. “I, uh, I have an idea.”
    
    
    “What?” Aerith asked, feeling her face fall into a massive smile at the sight of Tifa’s own tiny bashful one. _Whatever this is, it’s going to be good._
    
    
    “Well, obviously feel free to say no if you’re tired and would prefer we just got an early night, I mean to be fair that might be a better idea seeing as-”
    
    
    “Tifa,” Aerith had to cut her off, even though Tifa’s nervous babbles were on the utmost heights of adorability. “Baby, I need to know what the idea is in order to tell you what I think of it.” Tifa’s blush was of the kind that made it impossible to not lean up and kiss her.
    
    
    “Well, I just thought-” Tifa stopped herself, taking a deep breath before meeting Aerith’s eye with that tiny bashful smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Tonight?”
    
    
    “A date?” Aerith’s smile grew so wide it felt like it was taking over her face.
    
    
    “Yeah,” the fighter replied, almost shyly. “I just, well; here we are, stuck at the Gold Saucer for the night... I just thought maybe doing something fun and, I don’t know, something like what normal people do, I thought it might...help a bit? But honestly, if you’d rather not it’s-”
    
    
    Aerith had to kiss her. 
    
    
      _Surely it shouldn’t be possible for any one person to be so perfect!?_
    
    
    
      
    
    
    
    “I love you, Tifa Lockhart,” she said when she could speak, her grin still gargantuan, “more than I can say.”


	11. Chapter 11


    It was so big, looming over them like a giant sign of what was to come. _Like an enormous crypt..._
    
    
    Aerith could hear it, feel it, the voices coming in muffled waves from the building before them, from the very ground. It was overwhelming.
    
    
    She hadn’t even realised she was on the ground until she felt Tifa’s hand on her shoulder, her soft voice gently calling.
    
    
    “I’m... I’m ok,” she assured her worried girlfriend, threading their fingers together. “Let’s go in.”
    
    
    The two of them made their way up the stairs, Cloud following behind, his uneasiness clear on his face. Aerith almost fell back down the stairs in shock when they got to the top and found another of those mysterious black-cloaked people huddled on the floor there.
    
    
    “Black....Materia....” he wheezed, collapsing more and more into himself.
    
    
    Aerith felt her heart squeeze with pity, her mind riddled with confusion, not to mention fear.
    
    
    “Number 9...” Tifa murmured gently beside her, her expression mirroring Aerith’s own as she examined the tattoo on the man’s neck.
    
    
    “Come on,” Cloud said, his tone conveying all sorts of agitation. “Let’s get going.”
    
    
    Tifa squeezed Aerith’s hand and it gave the flower girl courage as they followed Cloud into the doorway. The room was dark, dimly lit by a few torches but they could make out what looked like an altar in the centre and a man slumped on the floor at the side.
    
    
    “Hey!” Aerith exclaimed in shock as she recognised him. “It's Tseng!”
    
    
    Aerith could practically feel Tifa bristling beside her and the younger girl somewhat aggressively took a step forward to stand between Aerith and the Turk as he slowly and obviously painfully pulled himself to his feet. Tifa had apparently never forgiven Tseng for his treatment of Aerith in Midgar.
    
    
    “Tseng? Of the Turks?” Cloud’s tone demonstrated his shock. 
    
    
    “Uh... I've been had,” Tseng grunted and slowly slumped back down to the ground. “It's not the Promised Land... Sephiroth's searching for...”
    
    
    “Sephiroth? He's inside!?” Cloud demanded, fear and excitement both present in his voice.
    
    
    “Look... for yourself...” the Turk muttered, gesturing wearily toward the altar. “Damn...Letting Aerith go was the start... of my... bad luck...The President... was wrong...”
    
    
    Aerith couldn’t help feeling the familiar frustration that Tseng always inspired.
    
    
    “You're wrong,” she asserted, stepping past Tifa to address him. “The Promised Land isn't like what you imagined.” Her breath caught for a moment as she saw the extent of his injuries.
    
    
      _Tseng.... No! You can’t waste your pity and emotion on him! He’s Shinra!_
    
    
    
    She turned away, trying to force herself not to care.
    
    
    “And, I'm not going to help,” she stressed. “Either way, there was no way Shinra could have won.”
    
    
    “Pretty harsh,” he wheezed, but Aerith could still hear the bitter laugh in his voice. “Sounds like something... you'd say.”
    
    
    “You deserve far worse, Turk,” Tifa growled at him, again stepping between them, her hand finding Aerith’s.
    
    
    “Think what you will,” he replied carelessly, shrugging rather painfully as he stood again, now approaching Cloud. “The Keystone,” he said, holding it out to the blonde man. “Place it... on... the altar...”
    
    
    Aerith whipped around, unable not to gape at him for this. She held on to Tifa’s hand like a life raft. She tried not to care as she watched Tseng wince heavily, heaving himself away to collapse in a corner.
    
    
    “Aerith...” Tifa’s voice was so gentle, her eyes so soft, Aerith didn’t realise it was because she was crying until the martial artist brought up a callused hand with which to tenderly wipe her tears away.
    
    
    “I’m fine,” she said quickly, although unable not to lean into the feel of Tifa’s hand at her cheek. “I just... There aren’t many people in the world who’ve known me all my life and... he’s one of them.”
    
    
    Tifa nodded her understanding, pulling Aerith close for a second and pressing her lips to Aerith forehead.
    
    
    “We’ll just have to make sure he survives then, I suppose.” She squeezed Aerith’s hand before releasing it and walking over to the fallen Turk. “Hey you; Turk. Take these.”
    
    
    “Potions?”
    
    
    “Yeah, potions,” Tifa said, the dislike plain in her voice. 
    
    
    “Any reason you’re giving me potions?”
    
    
    “It’s not out of any love or concern for your well-being, I assure you,” the fighter retorted acidly. “But, because she is a person of more grace and compassion than you can possibly comprehend, your death would make Aerith sad; so I’m not going to let it happen if I can help it. Lucky for you, asshat.”
    
    
    Tifa turned on her heel and stalked back across the room to Aerith who was almost collapsing from the sheer weight of her love for the girl in front of her, love and lust and awe and gratitude that she had her in her life, even shortened as it was.


	12. Chapter 12


      _The Black Materia..._
    
    
    
    Aerith felt colder just looking at it and wished intensely that she’d ignored the niggling voice in her head that told her to go into the pit with Cloud, staunchly ignoring the niggling voice that now told her that she should take the materia from him. She glanced up, looking for Tifa and instantly feeling warmer the moment she set eyes on her.
    
    
    "I'm far superior to the Ancients." The voice that cut into the silence was high and calm and cold as ice. Aerith felt her heart suddenly leap into her mouth as she turned and saw another image of Sephiroth floating now before them, rising up from the ground. “I became a traveller of the Lifestream and gained the knowledge and wisdom of the Ancients. I also gained the knowledge and wisdom of those after the extinction of the Ancients. And soon, I will create the future.”
    
    
    “I won't let you do it!” Aerith yelled at him, her rage at him for what he was doing to the Planet, for what he would do to her, and even more so for what he had done and would do to Tifa, overpowering her fear. “The future is not only yours!”
    
    
    “Ha, ha, ha...” He laughed, that cold, hard laugh that never touched his eyes. “I wonder?”
    
    
    That made the fear rush right back up.
    
    
    “Wake up!” he cried, his eyes now fixed on Cloud who suddenly clutched at his head, falling to the ground, writhing in pain. “There, Cloud...,” the silver-haired man murmured, as if a master with his pet, “good boy." 
    
    
    Aerith watched in horror as Cloud’s body jerked and straightened, almost as if he was fighting with himself, before he juddered to his feet and ran at Sephiroth, arm outstretched. 
    
    
    “.......Well done.”
    
    
    And with that, Sephiroth grinned murderously and rocketed into the air, leaving Cloud trembling on the floor.
    
    
    “Cloud, are you all right?”
    
    
    He moaned, mumbling something incoherent before his eyes flashed open in horror.
    
    
    “...I gave the Black Materia to Sephiroth...?”
    
    
      _Oh Gaia... Sweet Gaia, help us..._
    
    
    
    “Wha... what did I do...” he crawled towards her on the floor, his eyes wild. “Tell me, Aerith.” She couldn’t help instinctually backing away.
    
    
    “Cloud...,” she said nervously, glancing up to see Tifa watching, her face a picture of her shock and disbelief, “be strong, OK?”
    
    
    “Urrrrrrgh... What have I done!?” he roared, pounding the floor.
    
    
    “Cloud...” Aerith murmured, compassion blooming in her chest and overriding her instinct. “You haven't done anything. It's not your fault.” _Why, oh why, did I not listen when the Planet told me I should take the materia from him?_
    
    
    She placed a hand on his shoulder, her heart aching for him as he seemed to slump into himself. He stood slowly, his eyes almost completely blank now in shock of what he’d done. He turned towards her and met her gaze for a moment.
    
    
    Aerith flinched as she saw the flash of hard green in his blue eyes, her chest freezing as she realised what it meant.
    
    
    And then he punched her.
    
    
    Aerith was floored instantly, shock leaving her defenceless. She didn’t even have time or brain capacity to call out before his fist landed again, and then again and again, the world getting fuzzier and more painful by the second.
    
    
    “AERITH!!!!”
    
    
    Aerith became dimly aware of her name being screamed with more rage than it had ever been screamed before and then Cloud was gone, yanked violently away as Tifa landed in the pit and threw him bodily against the far wall. Aerith lay on the ground, unable to think or to move, aware vaguely of the sound of fists pummelling into flesh, the sound of absolute fury.
    
    
    There was a flash of black and red.
    
    
    “Tifa, stop.” Vincent’s soft calm voice could barely be heard over the sound of fists. “Stop,” his volume increased; “you’ll kill him.”
    
    
    “GOOD!” Tifa roared, her voice followed by another whumping thump of fist against flesh. “I want to kill him! I’m bloody well going to kill him! DID YOU SEE WHAT HE-”
    
    
    “TIFA!” 
    
    
    A loud crash accompanied the sound of Barret’s yell and his heavy footfall as he landed in the pit. Aerith could just about make out his shape in the corner of her eye; he appeared to be wrestling with someone.
    
    
    “Tifa, I know you wanna kill him; I kinda wanna kill him too, but right now your girl needs you-”
    
    
    He sort of waddled back into view and Aerith saw that he was practically carrying Tifa, his massive strong arms wrapped tightly around her as she kicked and bit and fought.
    
    
    “Tifa...”
    
    
    Aerith almost surprised herself as the word fought its way out of her throat.
    
    
    “Aerith!”
    
    
    Tifa immediately dropped her fighting and Barret released her, allowing her to rush forward. Aerith’s vision was still fuzzy but she could see spatters of red all over her beautiful girlfriend’s face and arms.
    
    
    “Aerith-” Tifa’s voice cracked and Aerith felt her heart break yet again.
    
    
    “Tifa...” Aerith choked for a short and painful moment on the blood which she then realised was gathering in her mouth.
    
    
    “Aerith!” Shaking hands reached for her and Aerith could see the terror on her lover’s face, now completely displacing the rage.
    
    
    “Here, let me.” Suddenly there was another voice, soft and calm, most unusual for its owner. Yuffie’s face appeared in Aerith’s field of view and the flower girl watched as Tifa scrambled to give the young ninja better access.
    
    
    “Tifa-” The name somehow tumbled from her lips again; Tifa being out of sight for a second was apparently more than Aerith could cope with.
    
    
    “I’m here!” Tifa appeared instantly by her side, her beautiful blood-spattered face now tear-strewn as well. “I’m here, you’re safe; I promise.” A little sob entered the fighter’s voice and she carefully raised Aerith’s hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Aerith ached.
    
    
    “It’s going to be ok,” Yuffie’s voice came again as she shuffled closer, raising the green Restore materia in her Armlet. The teenager closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Green and purple light began to shimmer out from her materia, seeping into Aerith, filling her with warmth as the high-level cure worked its magic. It was such a peculiar sensation, feeling your body being knitted back together, the bruises dissipating, bones realigning. 
    
    
    “There.” Yuffie released her breath, opening her eyes with a smile. “How do you feel?”
    
    
    “I, uh,” Aerith had to take a moment to wrap her mind around how to answer that question. “I’m good, I’m- I’m good.” She pushed herself up, one of Tifa’s arms immediately wrapping supportively around her waist. “Thanks,” she said, her eyes still on Yuffie’s and she reached out for the young girl’s hand with her free one.
    
    
    “No problem,” she replied, still not quite with her usual light-hearted mischievous tone, but closer than it had been before. Aerith released her hand and was a little relieved that Yuffie was alert enough to recognise that she needed her to leave so she could focus on Tifa for a moment and calm her down.
    
    
    “Tifa-”
    
    
    She started, turning toward the martial artist beside her, but almost immediately that she met Tifa’s eyes the younger girl broke down, great gasping sobs wracking through her. Aerith felt her chest constrict and her eyes water as she pushed herself closer into Tifa’s space.
    
    
    “Shh, baby, it’s ok. I’m ok; it’s alright.”
    
    
    She allowed Tifa to pull her into her lap and wrapped her arms around the fighter’s neck, trying not to break down herself as Tifa buried her face in Aerith’s chest, fierce sobs still shaking her.
    
    
    “I- I- I should have stopped him sooner, I shouldn’t have let him lay a finger on you, I should-”
    
    
    “Tifa Lockhart,” Aerith interrupted her firmly, cupping her face with both hands and drawing her gaze up, “don’t you dare take on any of this; don’t you dare. You couldn’t possibly have seen it coming, so please, baby, don’t; I can’t bear it.” She leaned her forehead against Tifa’s, trying to burn her message into her watery red eyes. 
    
    
    The thought of Tifa blaming herself even a bit for allowing this was not something Aerith could allow; particularly given the fact that that ‘niggling voice’ in her head was now telling her pretty clearly that the time for her lonely journey north was nigh. 


	13. Chapter 13


    Of all the moments in which Aerith had hated herself, this one surely had to rank among the most intense.
    
    
    She carefully reached over the side of the bed, feeling around in the dark for the Seal materia she had left nearby earlier.
    
    
    “Sleep,” she just about managed to whisper the command, holding the green orb out over her almost already sleeping lover, wrapping her in slumber for the rest of the night. 
    
    
    With Tifa asleep and staying there, Aerith was now safe to break down and weep like she’d wanted to since the Planet had spoken to her in that pit and told her that tonight was the night.
    
    
    “I’m so sorry; I’m so sorry, Tifa, baby-” she just about managed to breathe the words between sobs as she gave in for the last time and pushed herself closer to the young fighter. She was desperately trying to soak it all in, to burn the feeling of Tifa’s skin against hers onto her memory.
    
    
    Their lovemaking that night had been so gentle and tender, Tifa still wary on some level of the beating Aerith had taken from Cloud. That wariness was also probably not helped by the fact that Aerith’s ability to hold in the raging storm of guilt and sorrow in her chest was diminishing by the second. But the day had been long and more than a little eventful and far too soon it seemed sleep was coming to claim them.
    
    
    It was fortunate, really, that Tifa had always been the one to fall asleep first; sleep had never been one of Aerith’s favourite things, a side effect of a childhood as a lab rat and then an escaped lab rat. Usually she found it adorable the way that Tifa would curl up around her and so quickly find her way to dreamland; tonight it just made her heart ache. But then again, so did pretty much everything else; Aerith’s heart might as well have just been a large bruise inside her chest, or perhaps a full on gaping wound.
    
    
    The time was now 00.13 and Aerith began to seriously worry that she wasn’t going to be able to go through with it. It was all very well and good being set a task that the survival of the entire world depended on, but when it meant forcing yourself to leave Tifa Lockhart behind and probably never see her again.... She snuggled closer, another choking sob escaping as Tifa’s arm around her tightened even as she slept. Aerith had given herself a deadline of 00.30, very aware of the fact that if she didn’t have a deadline she’d never leave, and that if the deadline was too late and she didn’t have a decent head-start, Tifa would just catch up with her.
    
    
    But that meant she only had 17 minutes left.
    
    
      _16 now... Oh Gaia, help me..._
    
    
    
    She wrapped one arm around Tifa, feeling an almost compulsive, uncontrollable need to hold onto her, to experience the smooth skin of her bare back and shoulders, to feel the silken weight of her hair, the impossible softness at the base of her neck. Her other hand was busy tracing the perfection of Tifa’s face, her delicate cheekbones, full lips, her beautifully defined jawline and the gorgeous tiny scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. The wonder of Tifa’s pale skin contrasted against her jet black hair, fine eyebrows and those gloriously long dark eyelashes. These were moments spent trying desperately to commit each and every tiny thing to memory.
    
    
    “Tifa, I love you,” she cried, feeling the minutes slipping away like sandpaper running down her spine. “I love you, do you hear me? I love you so much-”­
    
    
    Tifa’s arms tightened sleepily around her, pulling her close and Aerith gave in, claiming those sweet soft lips in a desperate kiss, trying somehow to forget that this was the last time she would experience this, this was the last time Tifa would hold her and kiss her and make her feel alive. _The last time...and she won’t even remember it..._
    
    
    Shame crashed over her, smashing and roiling around as it all-but drowned her.
    
    
    “Tifa-” she gasped, trying to keep her sobs from being loud enough to wake Yuffie in the next room. “I love you-”
    
    
    She glanced at the alarm clock on the inn’s bedside table just in time to see the minute click over from 00.29 to 00.30.
    
    
    “No!” she cried, her voice a desperate choking whisper. “No, no, no, no, no-”
    
    
      **Yes. Now, Aerith.**
    
    
    
    The Planet spoke. It spoke so clearly this time but-
    
    
    “It’s too soon!”
    
    
      **Now, Aerith. You must go or Sephiroth will win and we shall all perish, including your beloved.**
    
    
    
    It was true; it was all true and Aerith knew it but...
    
    
    “Tifa, I love you,” she whispered the words fiercely by the younger girl’s ear, hoping somehow to brand them into the air even knowing that Tifa would not remember.
    
    
    In what was probably the single greatest moment of extreme effort and pain and willpower in Aerith’s life, she disentangled herself from her slumbering lover, trying desperately not to hear the sleeping mewl of protest that escaped Tifa’s throat and nearly dragged Aerith back under again. She quickly threw on her clothes and detached all the materia from her staff and armour, knowing that she wouldn’t need it. 
    
    
    Rummaging through her pack she soon found the envelope she was looking for, _“Tifa”_ written on the front.
    
    
    She’d written this letter more times than was probably sensible. It was a problem, really: Aerith was no scholar but she knew for a fact that the words she needed just didn’t exist. There was no way she could describe fully what she felt, how sorry she was that she had to do this, how much she loved Tifa. But equally there was no way she could leave without telling Tifa why, without giving her some explanation, no matter how inadequate.
    
    
    She placed the letter on her pillow and allowed herself one more minute to just sit on the bed by her lover’s side. She reached out a hand, hesitating for a split second before she let her knuckles glide gently along the soft skin of Tifa’s cheek. A stray lock of glossy black hair had fallen across Tifa’s face as she’d shifted in Aerith’s absence and the Cetra took enormous care as she pushed it gently back behind her lover’s ear.
    
    
      _She looks so peaceful..._
    
    
    
    Aerith tried and failed not to let herself imagine Tifa’s panic when she woke the next morning, her bewilderment and ensuing hurt.
    
    
    Tifa smiled a tiny smile in her sleep and Aerith felt her throat close again.
    
    
      **Now, Aerith.**
    
    
    
    Aerith felt like she couldn’t breathe, her breath coming in frantic gasps.
    
    
    “Tifa-” another gasp “-Tifa, I love you, baby, I-” 
    
    
    Her vocal cords stopped working, unable to find the formation to make sound. She leaned down, pressing herself desperately closer to her, breathing in her scent, her sound, her warmth.
    
    
    Phrases from her letter started running fast-paced through her mind, none of them adequate, none of them saying enough.
    
    
      
    
    
    
      _I will always love you._
    
    
    
      
    
    
    
      _You are the best person I have ever met, the best part of all Gaia’s creation._
    
    
    
      
    
    
    
      _Thank you for being in my life, for loving me._
    
    
    
      
    
    
    
      _I hope that you will forgive me, but if hating me makes it easier then do that. I will always love you, no matter what._
    
    
    
      
    
    
    
      _Please live. Please be happy. When it’s all over and the war is won, please be happy. Your love is too precious and sweet a thing to be wasted on only me; I know you can’t even think it now, but I don’t want you to live alone, your beautiful, beautiful love going to waste. Please, Tifa; live._
    
    
    
    Writing that bit hadn’t been easy, but Aerith meant it. The thought of someone else’s hands on Tifa, someone else getting her kisses, it made her feel ill, made her hope for oblivion instead of the afterlife she knew awaited. And yet she could not bear the thought of Tifa’s long life of loneliness. The young fighter had so many years ahead of her and Aerith needed her to know she didn’t want her to live them all for grief.
    
    
      _I will always love you._
    
    
    
    “Always,” she found the breath to whisper her promise one last time as she leaned over for one last kiss.
    
    
      **Now, Aerith; it’s time.**
    
    
    
      
    
    
    
    “I know,” she murmured as she rose from the bed, tears now streaming silently from her eyes as she forced herself to move. “It’s time.”


	14. Chapter 14


    Aerith’s focus was complete. This, here, was the task she had been set, the task for which she had chosen to make the greatest sacrifice that could be asked.
    
    
    She knelt at the altar underneath the Forgotten City, the Holy materia that had been her mother’s last bequest to her beginning gently to glow as she prayed, as she called upon the Planet and the Lifestream. She begged that Holy would be awakened before He came, the Destroyer, begged that her sacrifice and her death would not be in vain.
    
    
      **Hold your focus.**
    
    
    
    The voice quietly instructed and she obeyed, drawing air slowly into her lungs and just as slowly releasing.
    
    
      **Focus.**
    
    
    
    She obeyed but it was a battle. She knew she’d heard voices, human voices, enter the great chamber; one voice in particular called to her-
    
    
      **Focus! We’re close; don’t slip now!**
    
    
    
    She breathed again, putting her all into her focus, into her prayer, blocking out the increasingly frantic sounds around her.
    
    
      **YES!**
    
    
    
    In a split second the whole world seemed to change in every direction at once. The exultant cry of the Planet as Holy began to stir mingled in Aerith’s ears with the sound of rushing wind and the most anguished cry she had ever heard from a human voice.
    
    
    And then something hit her right between the shoulder blades. At first she didn’t realise what had happened but then she saw the shining silver blade running with blood that was sticking out of her chest.
    
    
    And then she felt the pain.
    
    
    “AERITH!!!!!”
    
    
    The muffle of her focus was gone and the sound of Tifa screaming her name rang clear as day in her ears.
    
    
    But Aerith knew that this blade was her end, that this was the blow that would take her life. Not even her lover could save her now.
    
    
      **It is finished. Well done, Aerith; it is finished.**
    
    
    
    She actually smiled, felt peace warm her heart as relief washed over her. _I did it. They’re going to win, Tifa and the others; they’ll beat Sephiroth now... they’re going to win...Tifa..._
    
    
      _...Tifa..._
    


	15. Chapter 15

She’d been warned. She’d been warned more times than she could count, but it hadn’t stopped her. She’d even tried reasoning with herself, the logical part of her mind pointing out that those who’d gone before her probably knew better and she should pay attention to what they said. Logic didn’t hold that strong a sway, unfortunately.

But it wasn’t all bad.

It was all excruciating, but sometimes the excruciating beauty was enough to outshine the excruciating pain.

Like the moments when Tifa danced and sang ridiculous little songs with Marlene just to make the girl smile.

Like the moments when Tifa bit her lip like that in concentration, completely oblivious to the effect that it had on those around her.

Like the moments when Tifa would play the piano.

Like the moments when Tifa was by herself and spoke to Aerith as if she was still there.

Aerith had pretty much resigned herself to this torture, apparently unable to convince herself from her course of action. Being with Tifa, even like this, was better than not being with her at all.

The only times she came close to leaving were when it was suggested to her that she’d lost the right to be with Tifa. The strongest elements of her self-loathing really got going when Tifa was having a bad day. The sight of her beautiful love curled up and crying on the floor, clutching at The Letter and wishing that she could hate the flower girl was nearly enough to make Aerith believe that Tifa wouldn’t want her there. Nearly.

As it was, she never left the fighter’s side.

Years passed and, though the world outside changed, Aerith’s purpose never did, her love never wavered.

But neither did Tifa’s.

Aerith watched, trying to ignore the horrifyingly selfish flash of relief, as time and again Tifa rebuffed the advances of the men and women who fell to her beauty of person and character.

“Hey, Tif,” Barret greeted as he entered the no-longer-new 7th Heaven.

“Hey,” Tifa replied and Aerith’s heart swelled for the warm smile she sent him. Two of the Cetra’s favourite people in the world now aside from Tifa were Marlene and Barret Wallace; she’d not been particularly close to either of them in life, but between them they accounted for most of the smiles in Tifa’s life now and that was reason enough.

“How, uh, how’s it going today?” he asked as he pulled up a stool at the bar.

“Pretty standard,” Tifa replied with a shrug, “a few deliveries; nothing exciting or out of the ordinary.” The martial artist turned, putting away the stack of glasses she’d been drying; Aerith moved with her and could see the sighing eye-roll that she hid from Barret before she turned back to him.

“Did, uh, did Jolene stop by? I know she wanted to chat to you ‘bout somethin’...?”

‘Ah. I see.’

“She did,” Tifa said, meeting his eyes with an obvious ‘don’t-go-there’ look before turning back to her shelving again.

“Yeah?” he smiled the nervous smile of someone who knows he’s on thin ice but is going to go for it anyway. “How, uh, how’d it go?”

“I’m not ready, Barret,” Tifa’s voice was firm but her hand shook a little as she put one glass down with a little more force than was necessary. “I’m not ready.”

Aerith’s heart got on with its familiar shattering.

“Tifa...” Barret sighed, running his hand through his grey-speckled hair. “It’s been what? Ten years?”

“Nine. And eight months.”

Barret swallowed.

Tifa was a statue.

“She wanted you to live, Tifa,” Barret said gently and Aerith wanted to hug him. “She wanted-”

“Yeah and I’m doing my best, ok?”

The words came out sharply, the next glass cracking as she slammed it down, a large shard breaking off and burying itself in the bar-tender’s palm.

Aerith could not count the number of times that she had prayed and begged and petitioned and pleaded for the power to make this better, to be sent back or to somehow heal Tifa’s wounds, the scar as obvious on her soul as the thick jagged line that ran across her chest.

“I know,” Barret sighed and pushed himself up from his barstool, walking around the bar to find the First Aid box under the counter. “Gimme your hand,” he instructed resignedly as he found the Restore materia in the box. 

Aerith could only watch, tears streaming, as Barret wove the Cure around Tifa’s bleeding hand. The fighter’s eyes were glistening, but Aerith and Barret both knew her well enough to know that it had nothing to do with the glass that had cut her.

“How’s that?”

“Good.” Tifa flexed her now-healed hand. “It’s all good.” She dragged up a weary smile, her eyes warm again but vulnerable. “Thanks, Barret, for, you know...”

Aerith had to smile, her heart swelling even in its many fragments; Tifa’s inarticulacy in moments like this was one of her favourite things.

“I know,” he replied with one of his best gently crooked smiles. Aerith often marvelled at quite how gentle and comforting this very gruff man could be. “I know. Jus’ promise me you’ll at least try to stop takin’ it out on the glassware?”

“Deal,” Tifa said with a snuff of real and actual laughter that knit Aerith’s heart back together even as it burst it.


	16. Chapter 16


    The day had finally come.
    
    
    Aerith had known it was approaching but now it was finally here.
    
    
    She hadn’t really known how to feel about it. If she was completely and truly honest, she yearned for it more deeply than anything else under the sun, but she couldn’t quite sit right with the concept of waiting with baited breath for the love of her life to die.
    
    
    But it was time.
    
    
    Tifa had lived a long life, a good life; success in business and in family, aging as beautifully and gracefully as Aerith had known she would, living long enough to see her surrogate daughter become a grandmother. It had even been Tifa’s suggestion that they name the little boy Barret after his late great grandfather.
    
    
    But eventually even one as physically fit as Tifa Lockhart must succumb to the perils of age. The former martial artist had decided not long after the baby was born that the time had come to find the final resting place for her aching bones. Aerith had a sneaking suspicion or two about where she was headed, but still felt her heart break and crack along its long familiar lines as she watched her lover chart her travel northwards to the land of ice and snow.
    
    
    Tifa had never really moved on in all those decades. She’d tried; Aerith had watched her cry and cried with her as she’d pushed herself to try letting someone new in, but these tiny attempted relationships never lasted, drowned in the vast sea of Tifa’s broken love for Aerith. Eventually Tifa gave up; eventually Barret and Marlene and Yuffie stopped pushing her to try.
    
    
    “I’m coming, Aerith,” the now-elderly Tifa murmured into the wind as she stood at the prow of the boat carrying her towards the northern continent. Aerith couldn’t help smiling; it was painful to think of Tifa dying, but...
    
    
    Aerith stayed with her, as always, unwilling and unable to tear herself away. She was glad to see Tifa admitting the frailty of her age and hiring transport to carry her from Bone Village to the Forgotten City. Aerith remembered that journey pretty well and didn’t want to see Tifa trying it now.
    
    
     _‘I can’t believe so many years have really passed’_ , she murmured unheard to Tifa as she watched her shuffle her solitary path through the still-deserted streets of the city, leaning heavily on her walking stick. She could feel memory and love and pain and anticipation all fighting for position in her chest as the old woman hobbled her way slowly down into the chamber under the city, painting a very different picture from the one in Aerith's mind of the agile, nimble martial artist who could climb mountainsides and treetops as easily as blinking.
    
    
    “I’m coming, Aerith,” Tifa spoke the words often now, almost like a prayer, almost like she knew Aerith was listening, was waiting for her.
    
    
      _‘Tifa...’_
    
    
    
    “I’m coming.” The words wheezed a little now, the journey through the city and the climb down under it having taken a lot out of the old woman. Aerith watched, tension and fear and hope roiling through her, as Tifa let the walking stick clatter to the floor, quickly followed by the heavy travelling coat she’d been wearing.
    
    
      _‘Is that-?’_
    
    
    
    Aerith watched, overwhelmed by her emotions, as Tifa pulled an ancient strip of pink ribbon from her pack before dropping the travel bag on the floor as well. Tifa’s hair was grey now, but there was still enough of it for the old woman to take in her shaking hands and tie the ribbon into it.
    
    
    “I’m coming now; I’m coming, Aerith.”
    
    
    Aerith was torn; part of her desperate just to hold Tifa again, to have her here, but part of her desperate for Tifa to never die, for her light to never leave the living world. The thought of watching her lover die was almost too much to bear.
    
    
      _She had to watch you die first._
    
    
    
    The thought washed over Aerith with a sharp renewal of pain and she prayed that Tifa’s journey would be an easy one.
    
    
    “I’m coming.”
    
    
    Tifa started walking towards the water, her tired shuffling gait gaining an extra sense of purpose before she braced herself for the cold and took the first step into the vast underground lake.
    
    
      _‘Tifa...’_
    
    
    
    The old woman pushed bravely forward, determination written on every line of her face even as the cold began to slow her down, reaching deep into her frail bones.
    
    
      _‘Tifa...’_
    
    
    
    “Aerith,” she coughed, shivering now; “I’m coming, Aerith.”
    
    
    And then came the first moment when the water’s depth threatened Tifa’s access to air. 
    
    
    _‘Tifa!’_ Aerith cried out uselessly to stop her, suddenly unable to bear it.
    
    
    “I’m coming, Aerith.”
    
    
    And then Tifa pushed herself that bit further forward and dropped beneath the water.
    
    
      _‘Tifa! TIFA!!!’_
    
    
    
    Aerith had never felt such intense panic, such helpless horror.
    
    
    She followed Tifa down and could see her still pushing herself, still swimming deeper, finding her limit and pushing herself as far passed it as the reduced strength in her muscles would take her.
    
    
      _She always was a powerful swimmer._
    
    
    
    Aerith felt her world crumbling and shifting and disappearing as Tifa’s movements began to slow, larger and larger bubbles of air escaping from her until suddenly they stopped altogether and her movements stilled.
    
    
      _‘TIFA!!!!!!!’_
    
    
    
    The silence boomed for a moment and then:
    
    
    ‘ _Aerith?’_
    
    
    The sound of that voice was almost more than Aerith knew how to cope with. She turned.
    
    
    There, shining with the inimitable glow of a newly passed soul, was Tifa Lockhart. It was her; it was really her.
    
    
    It was as if someone had stopped time and unravelled it, tearing the years from Tifa’s tired body so that now she stood before Aerith looking no older than the 20 year old that Aerith remembered best, her voice returned to its soft, age-free melody.
    
    
    And she had that adorable confused-and-surprised frown that Aerith had always loved.
    
    
      _As if there was a facial expression in Tifa’s repertoire that I didn’t love?_
    
    
    
    _‘Aerith!’_ Tifa took a hesitating step forward, her breathing suddenly fast and disbelieving. _‘Aerith, is that you? Please tell me it’s really you-’_
    
    
    Aerith knew there was no way that words would be sufficient to prove to Tifa that it was really her. It had been almost seventy years, but as Aerith threw herself at her lover she knew that Tifa’s arms would wrap around her just as perfectly as they ever had.
    
    
    She was right.


End file.
